Act III, Scene 3

Florence. Before the DUKE’s palace.

[Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM,] [p]PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets]

• Duke of Florence. The general of our horse thou art; and we,
  Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence
  Upon thy promising fortune. 1545

• Bertram. Sir, it is
  A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet
  We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake
  To the extreme edge of hazard.

• Duke of Florence. Then go thou forth; 1550
  And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
  As thy auspicious mistress!

• Bertram. This very day,
  Great Mars, I put myself into thy file:
  Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove 1555
  A lover of thy drum, hater of love.

[Exeunt]